


Parts of a Whole

by lacrimalis



Series: Vessels of Void and Fire [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Genderless Protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 13:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacrimalis/pseuds/lacrimalis
Summary: While waiting for Grimm to prepare for the next part of the Ritual, the Knight takes the Grimmchild on a field trip through the ruins; they inadvertently impart some good parenting on the little hellion, and discover they have more in common with Grimm and his spawn than they thought.Also, the Knight shares a tender moment with someone unexpected.





	Parts of a Whole

Grimm had put off preparations for the next part of the Ritual when the Knight confessed their inability to dance, but in light of the great strides they‘d made Grimm had decided to move ahead with them. The Knight’s debut in the big top would be in two days’ time, once all the finishing touches were made and sundry Ritual supplies acquired. 

The Knight busied themselves with other things while they waited for Grimm to have everything arranged, but they found it difficult to wait. The exhilarating effect of the dance thrummed through them still, and they found themselves falling into the steps of the dance as they struck down enemies and leapt over ravines. The Grimmchild seemed to recognize the Knight’s movements, for it chittered and spun in the air alongside and around them. It was as if it, too, were excited for the upcoming performance. 

They explored the uncharted corners of the kingdom and retraced old steps on well-worn paths. Some areas were new to the Grimmchild. The Knight noticed the creature had a particularly keen nose, and so they would hold up mushrooms or greenery for it to smell whenever they entered an area it had never seen before, while nudging it away from the more dangerous things.

It was a pugnacious little thing, too. The Knight had to teach it not to attack the larger jellyfish in the Fog Canyons so they wouldn’t be blown up. And then there was that mishap with the mantis tribe; the Knight had scolded it quite severely (which basically consisted of holding it in place and staring at it until it squirmed with discomfort -- the Knight couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting the thing) for attacking a mantis unprovoked. It seemed to know a little better now, and for that the Knight was grateful. They hadn't been sure how much it was capable of learning, but it was a relief to see that it was capable of distinguishing friend from foe with a little extra guidance. 

Idly wandering, the pair found themselves in the Queen's Garden, and on a whim the Knight decided to visit the White Lady. They knew the Grimmchild hadn’t met her yet, and for a reason they couldn’t put into words, the Knight wanted to introduce them. They passed the traitor child's grave and side-stepped Dryya's body to enter the cocoon-like structure.

The Grimmchild flew beside the Knight, banking and diving as it inspected its new surroundings. When they emerged into the White Lady's chamber, it chirruped in alarm. 

The White Lady turned to the Knight, her pond blue eyes cloudy. "Welcome back," she said.  

The Knight nodded, though they did not know how well she could see them. She squinted down at them, and the Grimmchild chirruped again, settling on the Knight’s shoulder as if to hide behind them. 

"And what is this strange creature beside you? It sounds...” Her brow furrowed before her eyes widened with realization. 

The Knight glanced at the Grimmchild. Did the White Lady know what it was?

“I see,” she finally said. “You’ve been consumed in the Ritual of that scarlet clan, then.” 

The Knight’s mind whirled with questions as the Grimmchild murmured uneasily into their neck. Had Grimm visited Hallownest before its fall? The Knight had gotten the impression that the Grimm Troupe only appeared long after a kingdom had faded. Perhaps the White Lady knew of them by reputation? Or perhaps Grimm _had_ visited long ago -- the Nightmare Lantern and the red-hooded corpse had to have gotten there somehow, the Knight reasoned. 

The White Lady sighed. “In what a poor moment they descend upon our ruin,” she said mournfully. If the Knight knew her better they could have said for sure, but they thought they detected an edge of reproach to what she said next. “Aid in their propagation if you like. But do not renege on the larger task this kingdom implores.” 

Dread rose within the Knight. They had broken some of the seals already, and so the plague had resurged and begun to spill across the old ruins of the Crossroads. They would eventually have to face the Hollow Knight and, if the White Lady was to be believed, take its place. 

After a long moment of silent consideration, the White Lady interrupted the Knight’s thoughts. “It’s strange – there is something about you and that creature.” At this declaration, the Knight looked up again, curious. “It is not quite a kinship, but the two of you share... a similarity, I think. Vessels, both – though you were created to bind a powerful evil, whereas your cohort was born to sup on the despair it sowed.” 

That was something the Knight hadn’t considered. Was it possible the Grimmchild, and by extension Grimm, understood what it was to be a vessel? To be created to serve a purpose, to be expected to abjure individual thought in order to embody a force larger than oneself? The Knight wanted to ask but, by the White Lady and Pale King’s own design, lacked a voice with which to do so. And the White Lady seemed despondent and lost in thought, so the Knight supposed she had nothing left to say. 

As they began climbing out of the cocoon, though, they heard her murmuring: 

“Perhaps your purposes are not so different, at that.” 

On their way out of the Queen’s Garden, the Knight stopped at the grave of the traitor’s child to admire the delicate flower by the headstone. There they sat, and the Grimmchild curled up beside them and slipped right off to sleep, grumbling at dreams.

* * *

When the Knight returned to the surface, they stopped by the Grimm Troupe’s tent. A sign had been fashioned and hung from the rope that pulled the curtained entrance firmly shut. It read something to the effect of, “No show tonight! Come back soon for a very special guest performance!” And then a pictograph of the Knight and Grimm bowing to one another, as if in preparation to dance. 

It was a simple yet effective likeness, and the Knight wondered whose penmanship had been used to produce it on such short notice. 

Suddenly Brumm emerged from the tent, and the Knight leapt backward. 

Brumm peered down at the Knight. “Mrmm... The Master is not ready for you yet.” 

The Knight nodded to let Brumm know they understood. They pointed at the sign curiously. 

Somehow, the members of the Grimm Troupe seemed to catch on uncommonly quick to the Knight’s minimalistic method of communication. Perhaps it was their relationship with dreams that allowed them to sense the Knight’s thoughts. Or perhaps it was their kinship as fellow vessels? The Knight couldn’t say. 

At any rate, Brumm understood immediately, and he nodded as if approving of the Knight‘s appreciation. “An artist happened to be in attendance at the previous performance. Master had the foresight to commission him for the sign.” 

The Knight perked up. Could he have meant Cornifer? Or perhaps Nailmaster Sheo? The Knight hadn’t seen either of them at the show, but they knew Cornifer’s wife was uneasy with the troupe’s presence, and that Nailmaster Sheo lived quite far away indeed. Perhaps it was hasty to assume it was someone the Knight knew. 

“If you wish it,” Brumm said suddenly, and the Knight startled out of their thoughts, “we could go around the back of the tent.” He held up his accordion. “I could play, and you could practice.” 

The Grimmchild crooned as if it liked the idea, and the Knight followed Brumm to the back of the tent. Piled and scattered about were supplies of the same type the Knight had seen in the secluded area where they had just recently practiced with Grimm (unlit torch sconces, wooden beams, masks, piles of lurid red costumes, etc). 

Brumm sat upon a wooden chest, and the Grimmchild settled beside him as he began to play. The thrilling and ominous melody sounded almost jaunty when played on the accordion alone, without the other unseen instruments in the tent to accompany and harmonize with it. Nevertheless, the Knight fell into the steps as easily as flowing water. 

It felt strange, dancing without Grimm there to provide a counterpoint to each of the Knight’s movements. But in their mind’s eye, the Knight could see where Grimm _should_ be, and their initial uncertainty vanished with the confidence that knowledge granted. 

“Lift your arms higher at this part,” Brumm said, and he began playing again at the beginning of the measure. The Knight backpedaled and performed the movement again, glancing at Brumm, who nodded and continued playing. In this way the dance continued. 

The pace was not as slow as it had been during Grimm’s revelatory dance lesson -- nor was it as fast as it was meant to be for the final performance. The Knight found it to be an effective form of progression. They felt confident that if they worked their way up to higher tempos, they would be more fully prepared for their debut. As it was, they were intimately familiar with the dance, but a little more practice couldn’t hurt – and as Brumm had just shown, the Knight still had room for improvement. 

So focused was the Knight on going through the motions of the dance, wrapped up in its hypnotic flow, that they jumped unthinkingly into the place where Grimm’s arms were meant to be. 

Brumm stopped playing abruptly, and the Knight braced themselves for their impact with the ground. 

But they did not fall. 

The Knight looked up in astonishment as they were swept into the next step of the dance, by— 

“The child wants to dance!” Brumm laughed. The Knight had never heard Brumm laugh before. And just as he said, the Grimmchild had caught the Knight midair to prevent them from falling. Its awkward bundle of wing-like arms had trouble navigating a dance that called for Grimm’s particular size and shape, and the Knight expected it to bow out and retreat to Brumm’s side in acknowledgment of this deficit. 

But the Grimmchild was caught up in the joy of the dance; it tugged and spun the Knight into new, improvised steps, and Brumm laughingly began playing a much more whimsical melody than before.

The Knight was swept up in the Grimmchild’s infectious merriment. And were they imagining it, or did its chittering sounds resemble laughter, now? The Knight improvised as best they could, stepping in bold new directions and, once, even lifting the Grimmchild up and over their head. There were a few points in the dance where Grimm was meant to lift up the Knight, but due to their great difference in stature the Knight had no such parts. They wondered if the dance was a little different every time, depending on who summoned the Grimm Troupe. It made sense; surely a dance partner twice Grimm’s size would look strange if Grimm lifted them up, regardless of whether or not Grimm was capable of such a thing -- and the Knight was certain he was capable. They got the distinct impression that Grimm was much stronger than his slight frame made him seem.

Dancing with the Grimmchild was easy and carefree. The Knight felt as if no step they made could be wrong, no matter how awkward. After all, the Grimmchild didn’t even have feet, so there was no danger of stepping on its toes. The Knight would have laughed at the thought, were they capable of such a thing – but Brumm and the Grimmchild responded with such renewed enthusiasm that the Knight was certain they had heard the laughter in their heart.

On the final note of Brumm’s song the Grimmchild guided the Knight into a dip, but its incipient limbs lacked spines or claws or sebaceous secretions with which to grip the Knight. Slowly at first, and then all at once the Knight slipped from the Grimmchild’s arms and fell the scant remaining inches to the ground. 

The Knight recovered quickly and sat up, their shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

It was not long before the Grimmchild tackled the Knight affectionately and reacquainted them with the ground. 

Brumm’s warm laughter resounded in the ensuing absence of music. The Grimmchild nuzzled and squeezed the Knight tightly in an embrace. When they sat up again, the Grimmchild crawled over the Knight’s shoulders and into their cloak, where it wrapped its iron-gray tail around their midsection and purred loudly. 

“I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard,” Brumm said, rubbing his mask with a hand as if to wipe away tears of mirth. "Thank you, friend."

The Knight shook their head as the Grimmchild peered out from within their cloak. Brumm didn’t need to thank them for that, they thought. It was a moment that all three of them had shared and contributed to. 

Brumm tapped his mask where his chin might be beneath it. “Hmm... Maybe someone like you could even...” 

The Knight tilted their head at Brumm. The Grimmchild mimicked the Knight. 

Brumm jolted as if struck, seeming to return his senses as he shook his head. “No, don’t mind me.” He rose then, and nodded to the Knight and the Grimmchild both. “It was a pleasure to play for you. But I’m afraid the child is too excited now to let you practice any more.” 

The Knight looked down at the Grimmchild squirming and crawling over them, and was inclined to agree. 

“And I must go help with preparations. I can walk you back to the main road, if you like.” 

The Knight stood to fall in step beside Brumm, who strapped his accordion onto his back and gathered up a stack of wooden slats – ostensibly the reason he had exited the busy tent in the first place, the Knight now realized – and lead a weaving path between the tents until they were back at the entrance to the big top, beside the road. 

Brumm tilted his head toward the Knight. "I look forward to your performance with the Master. I suspect it will be a memorable one." Then he nodded in farewell. "Until next time."

The Knight nodded, and the Grimmchild cooed, and Brumm vanished into the folds of red.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this installment is conspicuously light on grimm, pls forgive


End file.
